“Boy, is she an optimist! I can’t imagine how that will happen.”

Jed instantly looked concerned. “So you didn’t come up with anything today?”

“I’ve asked what seems like a hundred questions, and visited parts of the resort I didn’t even know existed, but I can’t tell you that I’ve learned anything that will help Jerry.” She frowned and picked up his drink again, raising one eyebrow at him.

“Go ahead and finish it,” Jed offered.

“I wonder what Kathleen thought she would learn about Allison in Hancock,” Susan mused.

“She wasn’t investigating Allison,” Jed said, waving to a passing waiter. “She was interested in June’s death. We’ll have a pitcher of rum punch and two glasses,” he ordered.

“And a large glass of water, a notebook and a pencil, and… and whatever you have available to eat,” Susan added. “I’m starving.

“You know, that might be important,” she continued. “Kathleen must think there’s something suspicious about June’s death. Does she think it was murder?”

“I don’t know. But I don’t remember there being any suggestion of that at the time.”

“No, I don’t, either. And I’m sure we’d remember,” Susan added.

Jed leaned across the table and lowered his voice. “Sue, if that auto accident wasn’t an accident, doesn’t that suggest that Jerry is a murderer?”

Susan considered that. “I wonder if that’s what Kathleen is thinking.”

“I have no idea. I sure wish I’d had an opportunity to talk to her.”

“Can’t we call?”

“No. She said she was heading into the city to check on some things and she would call as soon as she had something to tell us.”

“But-”

“Frances Adams said the less communication the better, Sue. She is concerned that the police department might decide that the embassy office is interfering with the investigation and take it out on Jerry.”

“Is that all Kathleen said?”

“She had seen Jerry’s parents. At least, she mentioned talking to his mother. They’re worried, but the kids are fine. Kathleen wanted Jerry to know that, of course.”

“Did she explain why she trashed their cottage before leaving?”

“Not a word about that. Oh, here are our drinks.”

“Cook just pulled these from the oven. Be careful, they hot,” their waitress said, putting a big tray of fried plantain and soft-shell crabs and two dipping sauces on the table between them. The young woman stooped closer to Susan’s head and continued. “We thank you for good words about James,” she whispered so quickly and quietly that Susan was sure she alone heard.

“What was all that about?” Jed asked.

“Probably another of James’s relatives… or girlfriends. They were worried that he might get in trouble after my kayak sank today.”

“Your kayak sank?”

“Yes. There was a hole in it.”

“How in God’s name did that happen?”

“Shhh! Jed, not so loud! I don’t know how it happened. It just did. James towed me in.”

“James put a hole in your kayak?”

“No! He saved me. Well, not exactly saved me,” she explained. “I had on a life vest and we weren’t that far out. I could probably have gotten back by myself.”

“We? Good heavens! You were with the bridge players, right?”

“Three of them. How did you know?”

“They stopped by when I sat down and asked how you were doing. I told them I hadn’t seen you all day long, and they said something about you having a story to tell me over dinner. I was hoping they meant that you had figured out who killed Allison.”

“And instead I’d had a kayaking accident. Sorry.”

“Are you sure it was an accident? It’s strange that the hole was in your kayak and not someone else’s.”

“I know. I thought about that. Look, where’s the pencil and paper that the waitress brought?” she asked, looking around.

“Right here under the napkins.” Jed pushed a pad with COMPASS BAY printed across the top of each sheet of paper and a pencil across the table to his wife.

“I’m going to list the possible suspects-the people who might have killed Allison, and drugged you, and assaulted Kathleen, and maybe even damaged my kayak. Then we can write down motives and… and…”

“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” Jed asked gently. “Motive. The only person who is connected to Allison, Kathleen, you, and to me is Jerry and he’s been locked up since the day after Allison died.”

“Peggy and Frank are from Connecticut.”

“Did they know Allison?”

“Not before coming here. At least, that’s what they claim.” Susan looked up from the untouched pad of paper and looked around. “You know what’s weird?”

“Everything?”

“Yes, but look around. How did one person get away with all these things? Murder. Assaulting Kathleen. Ripping up her cottage.”

“She might have done that herself, Sue.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right. But someone put a hole in my kayak. How does one person do all that in this small place without being seen?”

“Now that’s a good question,” Jed agreed, staring out at the row of cottages lining the beach.

“And the other odd thing is how chummy Allison was with everyone before we arrived.”

“Well, a single woman alone. Maybe she was just lonely.”

“Maybe, but there’s something odd about that. I know I’m missing something. It’s as though Allison thought that everyone’s opinion of her mattered a great deal.” The honeymooners walked by, smiled at Jed and Susan, and continued on.

“Good-looking couple, and funny how they look so similar from behind,” Jed said.

“Jed, they’re not important. Concentrate! We were talking about how Allison wanted everyone to like her.”

“You know, that’s sort of sad. I mean, it might have mattered if she had lived, but…”

Susan started so violently that she knocked her drink over into the appetizers.

“Susan, are you okay? What are you looking at? Was it something I said?”

“It’s something you said, and something I said, and something I saw… and I think I know who killed Allison.”

“That’s wonderful!” Jed said, sounding relieved.

“No,” she answered. “It’s not! It’s really, really awful.”

“Susan…”

“And the problem is that we need evidence. No one is going to believe us without evidence. Unless we have evidence, Jerry won’t be released.” She stood up.

“Where are you going?”

“Downtown. To a bar. To get a drink.”

Jed looked down at the mess on the table. “We could just order something else here.”

“No. I do know one thing: I’m never going to find out what I need to know by asking questions here at Compass Bay.”

THIRTY-THREE

“How did you ever figure it out?”

Even in the leisurely Caribbean, everything could change in twenty-four hours. Yesterday Susan had been asking all the questions. Today she had all the answers.

Well, almost all the answers. Kathleen’s plane was landing in less than an hour, and Susan was hoping she would be able to fill in a gap or two in the story. Until then, Susan and Jed were spending the day lying in the sun on either side of Jerry Gordon, replenishing his glass of rum punch as needed and explaining to curious guests what had happened.

“I know I was lucky to be held under the embassy offices, and the view was spectacular, but I sure did miss the sun-and the alcohol-while I was there,” Jerry said, stretching out and putting his hands behind his head.

“So tell us, how did you ever figure it all out?” Ro Parker repeated her question. “Did you look for clues? What did you find? How could you possibly have guessed what really happened?”

“Better tell her. She’s been driving me nuts since word that you had discovered the murderer’s identity spread around Compass Bay last night,” Burt urged.

“Oh, you!” his wife responded. “You’re just cranky because you can’t seem to attract the waiter’s attention this morning.”

“It’s true that the standard of service has fallen off dramatically in the last twelve hours,” Veronica chimed in.